Authoress' note: Frodo's thoughts, believing he must leave for Mordor without Sam.
I do hope you enjoy it!
Disclaimer: I own nothing. I tell that to my favorite white birch tree all the time. "Dearest," I tell her, "I don't own you. I don't own a thing."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
He sleeps. I watch him, knowing that I cannot stay to see him wake. I will not let him look upon me, see the fear in me. To preserve that which I most love about him, to hold sacred his innocence and the freeness of his trust, I must go. I am afraid, not of what he will do, but of letting him know what I have decided.
His eyes are closed. He is beautiful in sleep: at peace, without the need and worry that mars his face when he is awake. I want nothing to change that.
So I flee. I can't bear not to. He won't understand; I don't expect him to, not ever. I hope that someday he'll forgive me.